A year ago, I quit my job, sold a bunch of my stuff, and moved to the country of Panama.
What was by far the hardest decision of my life was also unbelievably liberating.
I had spent the previous 22 years working for someone else. Using my time, talents, and resources, building brands, and making money for other people.
For the past few years of my corporate career, I commuted 60 miles. In those afternoons, when time seemed to stand as still as the cars on the freeway, I began to weigh my options.
My husband and I were ready…
I had lots of time to think during my 60-mile daily commute.
I listened to audiobooks, podcasts, and sometimes music. Occasionally, I called my sisters or close friends. Mostly I drove in silence, pondering my life.
I had long internal conversations that conjured various questions about my purpose.
The heaviest question, the one that took my breath, was, if money, time, and resources didn’t matter — what would I do?
How could I utilize my time, talents, and energy to enjoy my life and make a difference in the world? Surely, there must be other options.
I left a lucrative…
The missing piece I’ve found is staying present in today. Being here now, that I may soak in the gifts each moment brings.
I find when I stay here — stay in today — I feel calm and light. Less anxious and fearful. When I see, really see my surroundings. Feel, really feel the emotions as they swirl in my body and listen with sincerity to what they need — then happiness abounds.
There is an arbitrary date on the calendar sixteen months away that I’ve given my power to. …
The day I met the love of my life, I was not at my best.
I was in the midst of trauma — hazily walking around, teary-eyed, bumping into reality now and again.
My then-husband of nine years had moved out while I was on a work trip. I was reeling from the email he sent a few days later, stating his desire for a divorce.
At the recommendation of a therapist, I reluctantly walked into a recovery meeting. A man named Adam welcomed me with smiling eyes and a warm hug. …
Building a business is not an easy feat. Most of my time and energy is spent doing the work necessary to move the needle. Every day, inch by inch, step, by step.
It’s slow and hard mentally, emotionally, and physically. My lizard-brain chatters, you should be doing more. And sometimes, who do you think you are?
Time for daily self-care and self-reflection has never been more critical.
This morning, I spotted a familiar bright green strand poking out of my pants cuff during my yoga practice. I immediately recognized it, and tears welled up in my eyes.
I’ve been lucky…
It’s 5:30 PM two days before Thanksgiving, and I step into an elevator with the COO of the Fortune 15 company that I work for.
He and I have a good relationship and a shared interest in mountain climbing that we chat about periodically. I’ve also been working on a huge transformational project with him for a few months, and our camaraderie has expanded.
As the ground floor nears, he turns to me and says, “Have you heard about the leadership summit we want to host?”
“Yes,” I reply. I was privy to some vague chatter and had started to…
The life I live is rigid and scheduled. I’m constantly conscious of time, for I know that it, along with my energy, is finite.
When I awaken, everything in me desires to stay in bed — relish in the secure warmth and calm, restful state.
Yet, I know I must arise and start my day. I know I must get to work.
There is excitement to do my work. Write stories. Hone my craft. Learn through writing groups and workshops calls.
There is also a great deal of Resistance. Its presence ever-present.
Writing isn’t easy for me. I’m slow and…
It was a cold, snowy Thanksgiving Eve morning when my baby sister Jessica was born.
I was twelve and happy to sleep in, snuggled up in my warm bed. I knew something was off when I awoke, and the house was still with silence. Our mother and her father had crept away to our small-town hospital in the middle of the night.
Jessica came into the world with reserved hesitation and skepticism.
She was jaundice yellow and cone-headed from doctors using suction to get her through the birth canal. …
As a child, the colorful signs posted alongside the road was my first indicator that election season was nearing. Driving with my mother, I remember counting the colors and reciting the slogans aloud.
Yellow. Time for a change.
White. Experienced in success.
Red. Patriotism and prosperity.
Blue. Working hard for you.
Not yet understanding the gravity or importance of the process, I knew there was a contest and a winner to be chosen.
I was familiar with races and contests. I played them with my neighborhood friends. Who could run the fastest? Who could hold their breath underwater the longest…
My mind tends to teeter between past regrets and the potential of the future. It’s easy for me to get tangled.
Vivid mental scenes arise out of seemingly nowhere — moments where I question both my actions and choices of inaction. Like somehow, if I think about it a bit more, I can change what occurred.
At times it feels like a message I’m supposed to pay attention to — a ghost whispering a vital lesson I missed. And yet, when I pause to listen, the result is typically judgment or anxiety.
I should on myself. Should have said something…